One Up
by occaryx
Summary: Sergeant Avitus has never liked Thaddeus and, standing amidst a growing pile of dead greenskins, he's not inclined to change his mind any time soon.  Dawn of War 2


The stink of Ork blood is heavy and sour on the air. The reek of it overlays everything, even the sharp tang of cordite and bitter scent of overheated metal. Avitus swings his heavy bolter around to meet the greenskin charge and feels the weapon kick in his hands, its machine spirit mirroring his rage with its own warrior soul. The dead xenos lie in piles around them, severed limbs and blasted corpses littering the ground from the ferocity of the Devastator Squad's barrage.

They have been holding this position for three hours now and Avitus is the last Marine standing. Behind him, Brother Arkus is unconscious, draped insensate over his weapon, felled by an unlucky blow from an Ork club. If Apothecary Gordian reaches them within the next few hours it is likely that he will survive. However they have been without long-distance vox communication for nearly two hours now and there is no indication that channels will be restored any time soon.

At Avitus' side, on his knees in a pool of his own blood, is Brother Marok. Caught in the stomach by a round from a xenos projectile weapon, he has been unable to stand for the past hour. As time has passed the volleys of fire that he has been sending into the screaming mass of greenskins have slowly become more erratic, and Avitus knows that the other Marine is beginning to slip in and out of consciousness. Soon, he will be the only Marine left firing.

Avitus snarls his hate into the oncoming rush of Orks, and opens up with another round of fire, tearing the legs from one of the charging horde and removing the head of another in a gory explosion of blood and viscera. The Ork whose legs he has shot off begins to drag itself along by its arms, an ugly, serrated blade grasped in one huge paw. Avitus waits until it is within an arm's length of him to kick the weapon from its grasp and stamp down upon its head. It dies only after the second blow, but by then he has already resumed his hail of fire.

Despite how it might seem, they are not alone out here. Somewhere in the twisting maze of paths that cut through this burnt-out suburb, Thaddeus and his team of Assault Marines are waging war. But since the vox-net went down hours ago, Avitus has neither seen nor heard from the other squad. He assumes that they are still alive out there somewhere; despite the younger Marine's tendency towards the flamboyant gesture, he is hard to kill. Nonetheless, this does not excuse him from Avitus' wrath.

Had Thaddeus kept a better control of both himself and his squad, rather than charging off into the distance like the hot-blooded young fool that he is, then this battle would have gone an entirely different way. An Assault team is forged as the spear-tip of an Astartes attack, but no spear can pierce without a strong haft to bolster it. Thaddeus, in his arrogance, has chosen to leave the rest of them behind.

Avitus can feel the rage burning inside him. Righteous fury at the xenos scum that dare to desecrate this world, that dare to think they might best the Emperor's finest, might best _him_. Disgust at their slavering savagery and a bitter amusement at their pitiful attempts to overcome his position. Stupid animals. Stinking, heretical beasts.

But there is rage too at the brat leading the Company's Assault Marines. _Thaddeus_. Cocksure and full of disrespect. Arrogant to the point of foolishness and unreliable as all youth is. Avitus does not know why he has been promoted so quickly, or what it is about him that has caught the Captain's eye. All he knows is that he does not approve of it.

There has been a brief lull in the charge of the xenos, the street empty save for the piles of the dead and the crudely dying. Avitus takes the opportunity to clear his weapon, ensuring that the firing mechanism is moving freely.

"Marok, are you still with me?"

There is no reply, and Avitus glances down at the other Marine to find him slumped forward over his weapon, unconscious once more. He gives a grunt of annoyance and pushes him further down into cover with the side of one boot. It seems that he is the last. This is not the first time that this has happened to him, and he does not expect it to be the last.

At the end of the street shadows are stirring, and echoing down between the blasted walls is the ugly sound of Orkish hooting. Avitus' lip curls into a sneer as the shadows coalesce into a fresh wave of xenos. They are huge, hulking beasts, lumbering forward with madness and savagery in their piggish eyes. He hates them, and the force of that hate fills his blood with fire.

With a chorus of howls and screams that merge into one reverberating roar, the pack charges.

There are more this time, more than Avitus can count, and far more than a single heavy bolter can hope to turn aside. He grits his teeth and sprays them with fire, delivering the Emperor's justice with rage and righteous hatred. There are too many to fight, and soon they will be upon him, massed and furious, ready to drag him down and tear him apart. He will die here, with his brothers at his side and his bolter in his hand. It never even crosses his mind to retreat.

Even above the roar of the oncoming xenos, the howl of jump packs is the clarion call that heralds the arrival of the Emperor's retribution. Dusk becomes midday as the street is suddenly filled with their blazing fire and the roar of their bolters. The Assault Marines hammer down with an impact that sends xenos flying in all directions, and coats the walls of the street on either side with stinking Orkish blood.

For just a second, the Assault Marines are the only creatures left standing in the midst of the wreckage. And in that moment Avitus catches Sergeant Thaddeus' eye. The youth is grinning, proud and defiant and immensely pleased with himself. Over the scream of his squad's chainblades, it's impossible to make out the words he is speaking, but Avitus can read his lips well enough.

"For the Emperor and the unknown Primarch!"

And then the scene before him becomes a riot of friend and foe as the Assault Squad hammers into the enemy. Furious at the interruption, furious at the lateness of their arrival, furious at the brat's showmanship, Avitus does the only thing he can do as he snarls and resumes firing.

In truth, Thaddeus and his Assault Squad are an awe-inspiring sight to behold. They tear into the enemy with ferocity and unsurpassed skill, the power of their attacks severing limbs and heads with single blows. It is the work of moments for them to dismember and tear apart the charging horde, gunning down the few that try to flee. Even in the midst of his fury Avitus can admire the beauty of their attacking forms, and the righteous passion with which they carry out the Emperor's will. But even this is not enough to move him to praise them. Acknowledge their existence perhaps; praise never.

He tries the vox bead in his throat, hoping for a private channel to Thaddeus, but finds it unresponsive. Kicking aside a dead Ork, he makes to move out into the street towards the others, intending to single out Thaddeus and find out where the rest of the Company are.

"Gordian and his squad are coming up from the South," Thaddeus calls over to him, emerging from the other side of his squad. "Maintain position and wait for them, we'll handle it from here. Don't worry, brother, we won't let any more through to you!" He grins that roguish, arrogant grin that makes Avitus' blood boil in his veins, and salutes the Devastator Sergeant with raised chainblade.

Avitus' eyes widen and his lips curl up in a snarl at the youth's presumption. To imply that he needs protection! To turn up out of the blue as though he were...as though he were _rescuing_ him? The gall of it cannot be tolerated. "You damned brat!" Avitus snarls, striding forward.

But Thaddeus and his Assault Marines do not hear their older brother's recriminations, for they have already leapt skywards once more, chainblades lifted in salute, and the roar of their jump packs drowns out his cursing.

Avitus stands in the street below glaring upwards in a rage, and far above Thaddeus grins to himself.


End file.
